


You Should Have Seen It

by snarkasaurus



Series: Fictober 2018 [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Shooting Stars, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 00:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16566080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkasaurus/pseuds/snarkasaurus
Summary: Fictober 2018 Day 18. Stiles wishes on a shooting star





	You Should Have Seen It

Stiles stared in awe at the sky. He was wrapped in a pile of blankets, a very cozy burrito, reclining on a lounge chair in the backyard of the house he shared with the rest of the pack. He was stargazing tonight, a much needed break from the chaos of their everyday life and the particularly brutal weeks they had had with a sudden surge and spike of weird supernatural behavior in the neighborhood. The last couple of days had been quiet, though, and it seemed like everything had finally settled. Stiles was taking the opportunity to just sit quietly and relax for a little while. 

As he stared up at the velvety black of the sky, studying the little pinpricks of light, he saw one streak across the sky in a flare of brilliant white against the dark. He smiled, studying the spot where it had been and wondered what he should wish for. He had a lot of what he wanted in life. Stiles’ father was safe, the pack was solid and stable, everyone was happily settled in a job that they liked… there didn’t seem to be anything he could really wish for that he didn’t already have. 

And then Stiles paused. There was one that that he could wish he had in his life that wasn’t quite the way he would want it. He stared up at the night sky and tried to figure out how to phrase his wish. He was too familiar with supernatural anything to be willing to leave this to chance. Eventually, he took a deep breath and murmured, barely audible, “I wish Derek would see that I’ve fallen in love with him and if he feels it, too, tell me.” There. Acknowledging that there wouldn’t necessarily be a thing unless Derek felt the same, and then they would only need to tell each other. No forced relationships necessary, and they wouldn’t have it hanging over them anymore if it wasn’t reciprocal. 

Contented that he’d closed whatever loopholes may have existed, Stiles snuggled down into his blankets and went back to staring at the stars. 

He must have dozed a little as he stared up because he was startled back to alertness by arms sliding under his knees and around his back. “Whoa!” he said, startled. He managed to keep himself from flailing and hitting whoever it was lifting him. 

“Sorry.” Oh. It was Derek. Derek was starting to pick him up. “I thought you were asleep. I was going to take you inside so you didn’t get sick.” 

Stiles shook his head. “No. Well. Not exactly. I was stargazing and just sort of...drifted while watching it.” 

Derek raised his eyebrow. Stiles couldn’t see it, but he _knew_. “It? The sky?” 

“Yeah! But I actually meant a shooting star. I saw one. You should have seen it, it looked so pretty.” Stiles looked back up at the sky. “I would like to stay out here for a while longer. Uh. If you want to put me back down?” Because Derek had absolutely lifted him up and was standing there, cradling the Stiles-blanket-burrito against his chest. 

“Oh. Uh...sure.” 

As Derek lowered him down, Stiles made a snap decision. “Join me?” he offered. “Just...sort of move me over and join me?” He was very glad it was dark enough to hide the flush of his cheeks, though he knew Derek could hear his heart rabbiting in his chest. 

It didn’t take Derek more than a moment to decide, but it seemed like forever to Stiles. And then he was moving again, shifting across the chaise until there was a long line of warm werewolf down one side and he was being cradled against Derek’s body, his head pillowed against the crook of shoulder-meets-chest. “Is this all right?” Derek asked quietly, his voice vibrating his chest in a way that made Stiles’ whole body buzz pleasantly. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said softly, forcing his eyes back up to the sky. “We’re really lucky to live in an area where we don’t have so much light pollution we can’t see the stars.” 

“Part of the benefit of living so far away from town and from any of the big cities,” Derek agreed. 

They both lapsed into silence for a while, long enough for Stiles to relax into Derek and drift back into his contemplation mode. He was so floaty that he didn’t quite notice Derek’s fingers slowly drifting through his hair. It felt really, really good. He closed his eyes. “Derek?” 

“Hmmm?” 

“Do you know you’re petting me?” 

The fingers paused for a second before resuming. “Yes.” 

Stiles’ breath caught. He didn’t _actually_ believe in wishes, even with all of the other things in his life that told him he probably should, given everything else. “Why did you come out here?” 

Derek didn’t answer for a while, but his hand didn’t stop moving. Stiles found himself grateful for that. “I was out here for the shooting star,” he finally said. “I heard what you said.” 

Stiles couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t an answer to his question, exactly, but it was almost worse. Better? He didn’t know. His heart was pounding and he could feel it in his face, in his ears where the rushing of blood was enough to deafen him for a few long moments. 

Derek’s hand never stopped, though. The steady, gentle strokes of strong fingers gently threading through the short strands of Stiles’ hair, the soft tug against his scalp in a slow, steady stroke was enough to pull him back from the edge of the panic attack. 

“I heard you say that you love me,” Derek whispered. “That you wished I knew and felt the same way.” 

Stiles didn’t know what to say. It was true. He had said that. And it was the truth, anyway, and Derek would hear the lie if he tried. So he didn’t say anything just yet, trying to get through the mental clutter of, “Oh god, Derek heard me.” 

“DO you really want me to feel the same way?” Derek asked. His fingers scratched ever so lightly at Stiles’ scalp, and he couldn’t stop the huff of pleasure at the sensation. 

What could he say but the truth? “Only if you really do,” Stiles manage to say, his voice hardly above a whisper, a nervous rasp to it. “I don’t want pity or sympathy. If you don’t...if you can’t…” He huffed, frustrated with his usually facile brain failing him on words now. “If you don’t or can’t care for me, don’t pretend.” 

“I don’t think I know how to pretend, Stiles,” Derek said. The fingers tightened just enough to make Stiles shift his head and look up at Derek. “Not about this. It’s never ended well for me before, and I...I’m broken.” 

Stiles studied the face so close to his own. Derek was usually so closed off and shuttered, barely showing anything other than frustration. It had taken Stiles a lot of years to learn how to read the subtle shifts and changes of Derek’s face and actions in order to learn how to interpret his moods. Right now, lurking at the corners of his eyes was nervousness; hidden in the curve of his mouth as he spoke was worry. Tension creased his forehead slightly, just enough to make Stiles want to reach up and smooth the line away. So he did. 

Unburying his hand from his cocoon, Stiles reached up and gently slid his fingers cross that crease, soothing the muscles. “The thing about broken things is that they can be fixed sometimes. With the right glue or tools, those broken things can be cared for and fixed.” 

Derek didn’t answer. His eyes flicked down to Stiles’ mouth before back up to meet his eyes. 

“Derek…” 

“I’ve been in love with you since the day you almost cut off my arm,” Derek said, his tone just this side of sharp. It was nerves, not anger, Stiles could tell, that made him sound like that. “You were so determined to save me some other way, and I…” 

“That long?” Stiles whispered. “I feel like…” 

“You should have seen it? I missed it from you, so I don’t know that either of us should have.” Derek leaned just slightly into the fingers that had somehow slid down from Derek’s forehead to his cheek without Stiles noticing. 

“Hmmm.” Stiles studied Derek’s face for one more moment. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said. “If you don’t want me to, tell m--mmph!” His last word was cut off by Derek’s mouth covering his. 

It was a soft kiss, tentative and curious, like Derek wasn’t sure how to make their mouths fit together quite yet. Like he was afraid Stiles was going to pull away and start laughing like it was a big joke. Instead, Stiles slid his wandering fingers into Derek’s hair and deepened the kiss a little. He traced the tip of his tongue across Derek’s bottom lip, inviting Derek to kiss him more thoroughly. Derek did. 

It was several long moments later when they finally slowed down, both of them panting slightly. Stiles opened his eyes and looked into Derek’s. “So we’re gonna do this?” 

“Yeah, we’re gonna do this.” 

“I’ll make sure I wish on more stars, then.” 

Derek laughed and kissed Stiles again.


End file.
